


As Time Goes By

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-21
Updated: 2006-02-21
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Trip and John are having a hard time juggling their careers, parenthood and married life so the crew steps in to help. Annabelle Archer-Tucker is mine. (11/02/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: It's not necessary to have seen _Casablanca_ to understand this story, but it helps to have heard the famous song from which the title is taken. If you haven't seen the film I highly recommend it. It's a great movie. Betas: Anita, Leah, Cinmbria and especially Lienor for helping me with the wine.  


* * *

"Come back here you little minx!" A childish giggle was the only response Trip got as his daughter wiggled out of his grasp yet once again. The strawberry hared, brown eyed toddler was a dynamo on two legs and it took all of Trip's energy just to keep up with her when she got into mini-tornado mode. God, how he hated the last few minutes before nap time. Tucker knew that if he could only hold on for a little while longer then weariness would suddenly overtake Annabelle and the little girl would instantly fall asleep. In fact, she slept so soundly that nothing could waken her. This scared the hell out of Trip the first time it happened until Dr. Zarell, the physician on the planet that Trip and John had been stranded on, told Tucker that this was probably a normal side effect of Annabelle's Xyrillian genetics. His little girl grew like a weed. Although she was biologically only 18 months old, she was the physical and mental equivalent of a healthy four year old human child, so Trip tended to think of her in those terms. 

Annabelle Tucker-Archer was the daughter of Trip Tucker, Jonathan Archer and Ah'len, an Xyrillian engineer who took advantage of both Trip and John several months before by enticing them into an alien form of sex without the two men even realizing it. It wasn't until Trip became pregnant with their child that the truth had come out, but by then he and John had been stranded on a faraway planet, left to build a new life, on their own, for over a year until Enterprise had come to get them. 

Now the Starfleet vessel was on her way home, and both John and Trip were having a little trouble adjusting to their old lives of Starfleet officers that were now combined with their duties as a parent to a very active little girl. 

Today Trip had been trying, with little success, to get her pajamas on, and although he was able to get the arms and legs into the appropriate places, this particular nightwear was a little more hazardous than the norm. They were a gift from Elizabeth Cutler who thought it would be quaint to dress the little girl in a set of pj's that had that flap that buttoned up over the little girl's (as Malcolm would so quaintly put it) bum. When Annabelle ducked away from him again Trip saw that one button had come undone and half of her rear barn door was hanging wide open. 

_Drat, drat and triple drat._ Trip thought as he tried to grab his dynamo, only to grasp empty air as Annabelle slipped out from under his reach once again. Literally within seconds Annabelle had jumped onto a nearby chair, reached up and actually opened the door. Trip was absolutely floored. His tiny tot had actually figured out how to work the mechanics of a door that should be a few years ahead of her in ability. Trip was frozen by the wonder of it, and by the time his mind had actually comprehended what he was seeing, Annabelle was out the door and freely roaming the ship. Trip shook himself, grabbed a hold of his wits, and chased after his little live wire. 

The crew members who were lucky enough to be roaming the corridors outside of officer country that particular afternoon were treated to an unusual sight. A pint sized, red haired cannon ball barreling down the hall, giggling all the way with her back flap bobbing up and down in the breeze, revealing little piece of baby bum for all to see, immediately followed by a larger version of the dynamo, looking much more harried, bellowing for her to stop. 

When his command was ignored, to no one's surprise, Tucker tuned to his fellow shipmates for help, not that they were showing any indication to assist. Every adult within range was simply watching the drama that was unfolding in front of them, making no moves on their own, which flat out drove the engineer nuts. "Will you guys quit just standin' around and somebody just go grab her!" 

Reed, who had been enjoying the show immensely, raised his hands high. "I'm sorry, Commander. I'm afraid that toddler corralling lies outside of my job description." 

"Thanks a lot!" Trip growled. Realizing that he wasn't going to get any help from his, "quote-unquote friends," Trip put on a burst of speed. Annabelle was still several yards ahead and was just about to round a corner when a pair of strong blue arms latched onto the squirming toddler and hauled her firmly up into the air. Trip skidded to a stop, seconds before crashing into Jonathan Archer. His husband, and Annabelle's other parent on this ship. 

"Having troubles, are you?" John asked his mate just before kissing his daughter on her cheek. 

"Just a tad." Trip panted, slightly annoyed to see Annabelle nod of to sleep while lying in the crook of John's arm. _Sure, she naps for him!!!_

John correctly read the look of annoyance on his lover's face and wasn't surprised. Ever since the family returned to Enterprise each of the men had been torn by two opposing desires. One to get back to the jobs they loved, and two was to spend as much time as possible raising the daughter that they adored. They compromised by splitting up their shifts, thereby ensuring that one of them was available to be with Annabelle most of the time. Unfortunately this was especially hard on Trip because he had to end up volunteering for the night shift. 

Archer wished he was able to work any hours, but the captain had to be available mostly during the day, when all of Enterprise's major decisions had to be made. Repairs could be done at any hour, so it was more practical for Trip to work nights, but this was just the beginning. Not only was the engineer up for eight hours during the hardest watch on the ship (hard to stay awake that was) but then he had to deal with an alert and very energetic toddler by day. Usually Annabelle had worn herself out by the time Archer got home to care for her, so Tucker was, essentially, pulling double duty and John could see that it was beginning to wear on his partner. "Why don't you take tonight off and get some rest?" John asked the question even though he damn well knew in advance what the answer was going to be, and that he wasn't going to like it. 

"Can't" Trip shook his head, confirming John's fears. "I've gotta finish up alignin' the port nacelle's power couplin's tonight, if I don't the engines are gonna really run ragged tomorrow." 

The engines weren't the only things running ragged. "All right then." John caved in for the moment on that particular point and tried to take another path. "I can see that I can't talk you out of going to work, but I want you to take tomorrow night off." 

"John..." While Trip was dead tired, another part of him thought that he was superman and he could handle it all, and he really didn't want anyone, especially John believing anything different, but the captain saw right through that and held up his free hand to forestall any more protests. 

"I'm not telling you to take the night off because I don't think you can handle it, it's just that tomorrow is movie night and I thought we could go together." 

"Movie night, huh?" Trip hadn't been free to go to a movie, or do anything fun for that matter for a good while. Still..."I've gotta lot of work to do." 

John could see that Trip was wavering just a little. It had been a long time since the couple had been able to spent time just being together. Both men were usually too tired from doubling work and parenting to have any energy left over for romance, and it had been weeks since they even found time to kiss and hold each other, much less actually make love, and both men were feeling frustrated at the lack of intimate contact. It was time to change that. "They're playing Casablanca." John coaxed. 

"Casablanca?" That perked Tucker right up. Casablanca was the engineer's all time favorite film. He was a big softy and always ended up crying at the end of all of Ingrid Bergman's movies, a fact which John knew well. Trip would really love to see that movie again, but duty still stood in the way. "I don't know..." 

John could see that Trip was tottering right on the edge and all the engineer needed now was one more little shove. "We could think of it as a date." Looking around, then seeing that there was no one else in view, John snaked his free arm around his mate's back and tugged Trip closer to him. "We could sit in the back and hold hands and maybe make out a little." 

"Oh yeah?" Trip began to smile as he settled into his lover's embrace. Damn, it had been too long since he'd been held like this. 

"Yeah." John squeezed his lover a little tighter then moved his lips closer to brush up against Trip's ear. "Then, after Annabelle's asleep you and I will have the whole night free to do whatever we want." 

"Gee." Trip's smile blossomed as he felt John's lips on his skin. "I wonder what we'll do with the time?" 

"I wonder." John's smile matched Trip's own as the captain pulled back to examine his lover and he saw that his mission had been successfully accomplished. 

"I can't wait until tomorrow night." Tucker said, confirming that the date was on, then the engineer checked his chronometer. "If I don't get court marshaled by my captain for being late for duty tonight, that is." 

"Well, you'd better get a move on." The captain ordered. Tucker was about to go when Archer pulled him close one last time, this time giving him a full and tender kiss on the lips. "I love you, Trip." John breathed. 

"I know it, Johnny." Trip whispered before giving his sleeping daughter a peck on the cheek. "I love you both so much." 

"I know." Archer smiled as his husband finally found the strength to leave them and Tucker made his way to engineering. Then the captain headed for their quarters. It was time to put his sleeping princess back down on her own bed.

* * *

Trip Tucker was having a wonderful time. He was sitting in-between John and Annabelle in the last row of the mess hall, circa theater, and as soon as the lights went down Trip felt John's arm snake around his shoulders. Trip leaned back into that strong presence and in turn cradled his little girl and pulled her tightly to his left side before settling back to enjoy the film. Annabelle was way too short to see over the top of the seat before her, but she was too young to understand such a film anyway so she didn't even try to look. The little girl was just glad to be by her father's side as her family was enjoying their night out together. 

They had just gotten to the part where Ilsa asked Sam to play that song again when Trip heard a small cough come from his little girl. Looking down at his child, Tucker saw that Annabelle was sniffing and wiping her nose before coughing again. Trip brought his hand to her forehead and felt the skin burn at his touch. Alarmed now, yet not wanting to disturb the others, Tucker quietly grabbed John's hand over to feel Annabelle's fever. Now attuned to what was happening John nudged Phlox who was sitting in front of them and after Trip gathered up Annabelle in his arms, the group exited the room. Their attempts at stealth failed when most of the crew watched events unfold with worry in their eyes. This crew adored that child and felt that Annabelle was one of their own. They would hate it if anything happened to her, and although they tried to settle back down to watch the film, more than one mind in the room was hoping that a certain red haired little girl would be okay.

* * *

She would, Phlox quickly reassured her anxious parents about that. "Relax, gentlemen. Your daughter just has a little cold, that's all." 

"A cold?" Trip exclaimed. "She's livin' in a hermetically sealed starship. How the hell could she get a cold?" 

Phlox smiled, hearing almost those exact same words coming from Malcolm Reed's mouth a few months ago. "Germs can live almost indefinitely in a dormant state and it's possible that Annabelle ran across one such pathogen while playing somewhere. Also you must recall that your daughter is only two-thirds human. While she contains most of the immunity that you both do, it's only a matter of time before something slips through for which she has no defense." 

Her parents didn't like the sound of that, so Phlox hastened to reassure them. "Don't worry, Gentlemen. After a few days of sniffles your daughter is going to be just fine." 

Trip and John exchanged a worried glance, hoping that the doctor was right.

* * *

So began what Trip Tucker idly called, when he had a spare moment that was, hell week. Keeping track of his daughter was strenuous work even when she was in a good mood, but when she was sick Annabelle was downright crabby. Crying for this, asking for that, keeping Trip up and running almost constantly, all while still pulling his shifts in engineering. Then Trip caught Annabelle's cold and that made everything twice as difficult. It was hard enough taking care of her when he was feeling well, now that he was sick it was almost impossible. Occasionally he thought of asking for help, but he was still afflicted with the superman syndrome and thought that he could do it all on his own. 

On the sixth day of hell week Trip stood in the middle of his filthy quarters, wavering on his feet. Annabelle had felt better that day but Trip couldn't say the same. Sweating like a pig, Trip wiped his bow and was dismayed to feel heat coming from his own forehead this time. "Great." Trip muttered to himself, feeling absolutely rotten. This was just what he needed. 

"Come and give me a drink, Poppa." A girlish little voice asked. 

Trip's eyes closed. Fighting down the frustration that was threatening to overwhelm him, Trip struggled to keep his voice even. "What do you say, Honey?" 

Annabelle knew the drill. "Please?" 

Trip sighed. "Okay." Tucker turned and took a step toward the faucet, then suddenly the room began to swirl and spin around him. He heard Annabelle call his name from what sounded like a million miles away, then there was only blackness. 

Across the room Annabelle thought it was odd when she saw her poppa fall to the ground and then he lay still. Poppa had never taken a nap in the middle of the floor before. Annabelle wiggled her way down to the deck from her chair and toddled across the room to her father's side. "Poppa." Annabelle pushed at her father's shoulder but there was no response. Frightened now Annabelle debated what to do. She couldn't go outside anymore. Poppa had fixed the button so it wouldn't open when she pressed it, but she had to do something. Anxiously Annabelle looked around and then her eyes lit on the communication's panel on daddy's desk. She moved as fast as her stubby little legs could carry her and with great effort she heaved herself up and into daddy's tall chair. She knew that she wasn't supposed to do this, but she had to, for poppa's sake. She hesitated when she looked at all of the complex buttons, but then she remembered what she saw daddy do and reached out and selected one. Trying to sound as grown up as possible, she spoke. "Tucker to Archer." 

On the bridge Archer was stunned when he heard his little girl's voice float out of the loud speakers. He didn't know if he was angry with her for doing something that she knew was forbidden to her, or proud that she was able to figure out how to work the comm all by herself. "Annabelle? Honey, is that you?" 

"Yes, Daddy." The high pitched voice responded. 

Archer knew that T'Pol was frowning on the violation of protocol, but the rest of the bridge crew seemed amused and John had to bite back his own smile. "Why are you calling me, Honey?" 

"I need you to come home, Daddy. Poppa fell down." 

That sent a chill of fear through Archer's heart and the captain got to his feet. "What do you mean, Poppa fell down?" 

"Poppa's takin' a nap in the middle of the floor and I can't wake him up." Everyone on the bridge could clearly hear the fright in the little girl's voice. 

A fear that was shared by Archer. "Stay put, Annabelle. I'll be right there." The captain shot a glance at Hoshi and T'Pol and the two women responded instantly to his unspoken commands. T'Pol was heading for the command chair and Hoshi had all ready reached the doctor by the time he reached the turbolift.

* * *

The first thing Trip Tucker felt was the warmth of his hand cocooned within another. Then, as Trip became more awake, a nagging worry turned into full blown panic. "Annabelle!" Trip cried, bolting upright in bed. 

"She's just fine, Trip. Take it easy." The soothing timbre of his partner's voice instantly calmed him and Trip allowed John to push him back onto the bio bed. Trip knew that John wouldn't lie to him about something as important as their daughter's well being, but still, he felt the need to ask again. "She's really all right?" 

"Absolutely. In fact Hoshi's looking after her right now." John confirmed as he reclaimed his seat where he'd been keeping vigil over his unconscious partner for most of the last night. "You're the one that I've really been worried about." 

As soon as John said that it really hit Trip that he wasn't in his bed at home, he was in sickbay. He glanced at his husband and was shocked to see deep lines of concern etched in that otherwise handsome face. Trip reached out and brushed his fingers along one of those groves. "I caused these, didn't I?" 

John caught Trip's hand with his own and pushed it deeper against his skin. He didn't even have the strength to answer verbally so John just nodded. 

Trip was instant flooded with guilt. "I'm so sorry, love." Then it occurred to the engineer that he didn't have a clue as to what he was sorry about. "What happened?" 

"You collapsed." John tightened his grip on Trip's fingers. "Doc says it's a combination of your cold and total exhaustion, but he also said that you'll be fine after a few days of rest." 

The reassurance barely registered, Trip was too busy searching his memory in a desperate effort to recall what happened. "I remember chasing after Annabelle in our quarters all day, then the room started to spin, then..." Trip suddenly tensed. "Oh, God. I left her alone." 

"Relax." John ordered, once again pushing Trip back down on the bed. "Annabelle was only by herself for a couple of minutes and she did just fine." 

"A couple of minutes?" That didn't make any sense to Trip at all. "But no one else was with us. If I was unconscious, how did you find out that I was in trouble so quickly?" 

John surprised Trip then when he actually laughed, a small joyful chuckle. "You're not going to believe this, Trip, but Annabelle called me on the comm." 

"No!" Trip was flummoxed by the concept of it. "She shouldn't be able to work the comm at her age, it's way too complex for her." 

"I know, but some how she managed it." John relished the memory. "You should have heard her, Trip. She sounded so grown up." John rose his voice a couple of octaves and tried to mimic Annabelle's little girl, adult tones. "She said, Tucker to Archer...." Then John's voice returned to normal and he was sorry that he couldn't have recorded the call for Trip to hear later. "It was so, darn cute." 

"I bet it was." Trip wished he could have heard that. It sounded like this was a pivotal moment in his little girl's life, like her speaking her first word, or taking her first step, and he had missed it. While Trip felt awful about that, at the same time was proud as punch of her. "Wow, John. She's working comm systems and figurin' out door locks and she's not even eighteen months old. Just how smart is she gonna get?" 

"I don't know," John had been thinking about that too. It was obvious that they had a prodigy on their hands. "But I'll bet she ends up a lot smarter than us." 

Trip snorted. "You've got that right." Annabelle was such a handful right then, what was life going to be like when she got even more clever than she was at that moment? Suddenly Trip felt terrified. 

John could see the fear on his husband's face. "What is it, Trip?" 

"I'm scared to death, John. I can barely keep up with Annabelle now. What's it gonna be like when she starts out thinkin' us?" 

John knew it was time to put his captain's hat back on and start issuing some orders. "Well, first off you're not going to have to handle everything alone. I'm going to make some more time to be around and I think it's time we ask the crew for some help, too." 

"How can we do that, John? These people are highly trained specialists who came out here to explore the great unknown, not baby sit. I can't ask them to clean up spilled milk, or brush her teeth, or put on her pj's, or chase after her as she sprints around the room using up all her excess energy just before bed time, I just can't, besides..." Trip didn't have any trouble admitting this truth. "I love doin' all that stuff myself. The only thing I hate about the current situation is that between the demands of her, my engines and your bridge, I never get to be with you. I know I would feel better if I could just have a moment with you once and a while, but we never seem to find the time, and while I wouldn't trade our daughter for anything in this universe, I miss you Johnny. I really, really do." 

When John looked at those blue eyes staring at him, brimming with need, the mighty captain's heart melted into a pile of mush. "Oh, baby, I miss you too." John quickly gathered his husband into his arms and kissed him, oh so tenderly at first, then the kiss migrated into a violent desire to fuse the two of them into one. A frantic attempt to make up for all their lost time with one kiss. After a few minutes they broke for air and John hugged Trip, hard. "Don't worry, baby, we'll find a way to be together, somehow." Even as he made the promise, both John and Trip had no idea how the hell he was going to be able to keep it. 

On the other side of the white, privacy curtain Hoshi stood in shock. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she had been about to tell the couple that she had brought Annabelle to see Trip when she couldn't help but hear the heart wrenching conversation. A glance to her left reassured the comm officer that Annabelle hadn't heard what her parents said. The child had a fascination with the doctor's bat and the physician was always pleased to show her the animal whenever the little girl visited sickbay. Reassured that Annabelle's attention was diverted, Hoshi focused on her superior officers. Her heart had broken when she realized the amount of personal sacrifice that Enterprise's captain and chief engineer were making to keep the ship, and their daughter safe and happy. Hoshi became determined. This situation couldn't be allowed to continue. Something had to be done.

* * *

Trip ached with loneliness. He was by himself for a change, a rarity that he knew he should be embracing, but at that moment he just longed for the company of someone in his family, either John or his little girl, but neither were available. During the last week the doctor had kept Trip on light duty and spent a good part of the time watching over Annabelle himself so Trip could rest. While this greatly aided in the recuperation of his body, the engineer's soul was another matter. Trip had hoped that he and John would get to spend some time together, but unfortunately Enterprise made a first contact with a new species and the captain had to preside over all of the cross-cultural meetings and was otherwise occupied. 

It wasn't all bad. Relieved of pressing duty matters, Trip was free to devote much of his time to his daughter, when the doctor was through showing her around his menagerie that was. Tucker loved how she preened under his praise when he thanked her for being such a smart and brave little girl when she called daddy to save his life, and the feel of her tiny arms around his neck when she hugged him tight brought tears to Trip's eyes, strengthening his resolve to love this little girl forever, whatever the cost. 

Still, he was longing for John. Trip told himself to stop being stupid. Nothing was going to change the current situation and he was forcing himself to accept the realization that life was going to be this way for a good long time to come when the comm chirped and Rostov's voice floated over the speaker, summoning him to a cargo bay immediately. 

"What's goin' on down there, Crewman?" What kind of dire mechanical emergency could manifest itself in a cargo bay of all places? 

"It's too difficult to explain. We just need you down here right away, sir." 

Trip sighed. While he was still too tired to deal with whatever crisis was the order of the day, a part of him wanted to talk to someone, anyone. Trip got to his feet and told Rostov he'd be right there. Tucker knew he couldn't be with his nuclear family right now, but the extended family of his engineering team would do almost as well right then.

* * *

Trip found a surprise waiting outside the door of the cargo bay. Jonathan Archer was rapidly approaching from the opposite direction. "Don't tell me they called you too?" 

John nodded, as surprised to see Trip there as the engineer was to see him. "Hoshi said that I was needed here, urgently." John was beginning to smell...well not a rat...but something was definitely in the air. "I take it you got the same message?" 

"Oh you betcha." Trip also knew something was up. "Well, Cap'n, whatever's goin' on, we won't find out about it standin' out here in the hall. 

"You've got that right." John waved for Trip to enter first. "After you?" 

"Why, thank you, Cap'n." Tucker gathered up his courage and entered the door. Inside Trip took one look and stopped still so abruptly that Archer ran into him. 

"Hey." John complained. "What's the...." Archer's mind went into overload and couldn't be bothered with talking anymore as his eyes took in the amazing sight that was laid out before them. The cargo bay had been transformed into....well...Archer wasn't quite sure what it was. 

The walls of the room were covered with beige cloth to hide their metallic surfaces. There were several crepe paper palm trees scattered around, along with a couple of revolving fans spinning from the ceiling. Prominently placed in the center of the room was a round table, covered with a checkered table cloth, and it had a candle as it's centerpiece for mood. In the corner was the small electronic keyboard that doubled for Enterprise's piano. At the controls of the keyboard sat one Travis Mayweather who was belting out a bevy of background music. To Trip the songs were intimately familiar but he couldn't place them immediately. 

Before he could think about it further they were approached by a man in a tuxedo. "Good Evening, Gentlemen." Something between an American drawl tainted by a British brogue greeted them. Trip blinked. It took him a second to recognize that the stately apparition that was standing in front of them was indeed his good friend Malcolm Reed. While the armory officer was always impeccably dressed in his uniform, Trip didn't think that he'd ever seen his friend so gussied up before. Not to mention the fact that Reed was trying to disguise his voice by faking some rough, tough guy American accent, though for the life of Trip he couldn't imagine why. 

Archer couldn't either. Reed was all honor and duty and it just wasn't like the armory officer to be dressed in such an outfit. "What's going on here, Lieutenant?" 

"Lieutenant?" Reed appeared to be puzzled by the term. "I'm afraid that there are no ranks allowed in my restaurant, sir." 

John wasn't sure if he heard that right. "Your restaurant?" 

"Yes indeed." Reed smiled broadly and called their attention to the room behind him. "Welcome, Gentlemen, to Reed's Cafe American." 

Trip gushed out a sharp, little snort at the name. Now everything made sense. The decor, Reed's hideous accent, even the tunes that Mayweather was playing. Trip recognized them now. Obviously the crew was trying to re-create Rick's place from Casablanca for them, but why? 

Malcolm could see the confusion in their faces and quickly spoke before they had time to come to their senses and balk. "Your table is waiting, Gentlemen." Reed said, gesturing with great flair to the only table in the room. 

Trip got it. Apparently the crew had worked real hard to give them a romantic night out and Tucker, for one, wasn't gonna waste it. John, however, seemed a little slower on the uptake, despite his usual finely honed captain's reflexes, and he was a little startled when Trip nudged him. "What?" 

"Our table is waitin', Honey." Trip deliberately used the endearment, something he would never normally do in public, but he had to push John into the roles that the crew so obviously expected them to play. 

"Oh." John had finally caught up and allowed himself to be prodded forward. 

Malcolm started prattling on as the couple was seated. "Now, you're not to worry about anything. This entire evening has been attended to." Reed looked toward the back of the room and clapped his hands. 

On cue, Hoshi, wearing a silky French waitress outfit, complete with fish net stockings, came through the double doors and handed them their menus. "Good evening. I'm your waitress, Miss Sato. If there is anything you need, please feel free to ask." 

Trip beamed at her, thoroughly enjoying the game as he took the menu. "Thank you, Miss." 

Trip may have been getting a big kick out of events, but as captain John had an image to maintain and he wasn't sure if he could let go of his responsibilities enough to enjoy himself this way in front of his crew. "Listen, Malcolm...." 

"Sir..." Reed cut him off. "It is the sole purpose of my establishment to ensure that all of my guest have the very best time possible and that is what I and my staff intend to do." Reed fell out of character for a moment and resumed his normal accent. "We just want to give you and the commander here a chance to be a together for a little while, without any of your numerous duties and responsibilities getting in the way, that's all." 

"We've arranged for everything, sir." Hoshi broke into the argument. "First dinner, then dancing, then...." Hoshi's voice caught while her face turned a little pink. That's when Trip noticed the small bed discretely cloistered in the corner of the room. "Well...you know." She continued, regaining her stamina. "The whole night's taken care of so all you two have to do is sit back and relax." 

Trip had been enjoying this whole adventure, right up until that moment. "The whole night? Hoshi we can't be here that long. Annabelle..." 

"Will be fine." Hoshi assured him, firmly. "I've lined up a very competent baby sitter who is going to take excellent care her for you." Hoshi could see that Trip, with his full parental instincts still aroused wasn't totally convinced, so she moved in for the kill. "Really sir, do you think I would let anything happen to our favorite little girl?" 

Awash with sudden guilt, Trip relented and forced himself to relax. "Of course not, Hoshi...I mean Miss Sato." 

"That's better." Hoshi said with gusto as she handed out the menu's, although she wondered if Tucker would be so calm if Tucker knew what was going on in the mess hall that minute. 

Reed, however had slipped back into character and back into his dreadful drawl. "Well, Gentlemen. I'm assuming that's settled and that both of you will be the recipients of my hospitality for the next few hours?" 

John gave Trip a measured glance. He could see that his husband was won over and he was too. The fact that his crew loved them this much to go to all this trouble was touching and he wasn't about to let them down. Besides, suddenly he wanted a romantic evening with Trip very, very badly. The decision made, John mentally threw off his captain's hat for the evening and grabbed the menu. "Thank you 'Mr. Proprietor of Reed's Cafe American' we'd love to be your guests for the evening." 

The crew around them relaxed, pleased that their gesture had been accepted and eagerly slipped into their roles as Trip and John perused their menus. John noticed that Chef had actually given them a choice. He looked across the table at Trip. "What are you in the mood for, my love." 

Trip preened under the endearment, loving the fact that John could say that in front of the others. Loving the crew that set this up for them. "I can't decide, Honey. Why don't you order for me." 

"All right." After another minute of careful consideration John made his choice known to Hoshi. "I'll have the roast duck and my husband will have the rack of lamb, both with Chef's special sauce of course." 

Trip smiled, pleased that John knew his wants well enough to choose exactly what he wanted. Hoshi, ever the professional waitress took their menus back. "Very good sir." 

"Now sir." That awful drawl of Reed's broke in again. "Would you care to select a wine." 

"Ah, wine would be my husband's department." John looked at Trip with pride. "He's the connoisseur in the family." 

"Well, then." Reed almost hid his surprise that country boy Trip Tucker would end up a sophisticated wine expert of all things and handed him the wine list. "If you would care to look this over?" 

"Thank you." Trip perused the list, finally settling on a choice. "We'll have the Cotes du Rhone, 2149." He looked at Archer. "It should go well with both the lamb and the duck, don't you think?" 

John smiled and took Trip's hand in his own. Lovingly caressing his fingers and looking deep into his partner's eyes. "It's just perfect." 

Seeing that the couple was suddenly lost to him, Reed and Hoshi made a discreet exit and headed over to Travis who was still playing background music on the keyboard. "It looks like things are going well." The man who was helming the piano stated. 

"It took a little convincing." Reed admitted, back in his normal voice. "But they finally came around." 

Travis nodded then shot a wary look at Hoshi. "I take it you didn't tell Commander Tucker just who was babysitting Annabelle." 

"Are you kidding!" Hoshi shuddered at the thought. "He would have been out of here like a shot." 

"Don't worry." Malcolm tried to reassure her, while at the same time calming himself. "She'll be fine with the child." 

"Yeah, right." Hoshi could only hope that was so, as she went to give Chef the couple's menu choices. She knew that the most unique babysitting session was going on in the mess hall right now, and she only hoped that both the child, or the babysitter would make it through the evening intact.

* * *

"Where you goin'?" 

The little voice halted T'Pol on her way to the protein re-sequencer and the Vulcan turned to face the young girl who was sitting at the table behind her. "To get the tea that you requested." 

"I'm not old enough to drink real tea!" Annabelle admonished in her little girl, yet oh so grown up way. 

T'Pol had thought that the was request odd. Usually she noticed that the daughter of the captain and the commander drank only fruit juice or milk, yet she during her stay on Earth T'Pol learned that many different human cultures had varying nutritional requirements for their children. Even one culture, France she believed, allowed their young to drink a fermented grape beverage at a very early age, so she didn't question Annabelle when she brought up the subject, but now, apparently, actual tea was not what she wanted. T'Pol fought to contain the emotion of frustration under check. How like Commander Tucker his daughter was. She found them both to be quite irritating at times. T'Pol needed clarification. "You did state that you wished to host a 'tea party' did you not?" 

"Yeah but you don't use real tea!" The strawberry haired tot giggled. "It's all pretend." Annabelle waved a little stubby arm around the table, inviting T'Pol to sit back down next to her. Also prominently seated was a large stuffed teddy bear and a plastic doll. 

As T'Pol took her seat she noticed that there was a small, tea cup and service placed in front of each setting, along with a pot in the center of the table, but there was nothing in any of the porcelain. Annabelle, with great flourish, picked up the pot and tilted it over T'Pol's cup, but no liquid came out. "I do not understand the point of this activity?" 

Annabelle took great pleasure in explaining. "I'm the 'Empress of Enterprise' and I'm hostin' a tea party for my court." 

"Court?" 

The little girl nodded. "See, Dolly is my lady in waitin', and Teddy over there is my financial advisor." Even though she had no idea what a financial advisor was Annabelle loved the idea of having one and giggled over the grown up term. Then she turned to T'Pol. "And you are a beautiful princess from a rival kingdom and you're seekin' asylum with my people." Annabelle added, really getting into the story that she was weaving now. 

"I am not a princess." The ever practical voice of Vulcan reason pointed out. "I hold the rank of Sub-Commander." 

"I told you, it's all pretend!" Annabelle began to feel a little frustrated. Just like her parents have on many occasions. "Haven't you ever pretended before?" "Never." 

Annabelle didn't let that little fact slow her. "Don't you worry none. I'll show you how." 

"But I do not wish..." Any protest T'Pol had was cut off when Annabelle shoved the empty tea cup in her hand. 

"Now listen. All you've gotta do is hold onto the cup....no...not like that!" Annabelle admonished when T'Pol surrounded the cup with her hand. "You've gotta hold it like a real lady, with your thumb and forefinger around the handle. Oh and you gotta stick your pinkie out to the side." 

"Why?" The rebel buried deep within the Vulcan began to surface, just a little. "That is not a practical position." 

"You gotta do it cause it's lady like, that's why." 

T'Pol placed her hand in the required position. "Is that correct?" Annabelle beamed and nodded vigorously. "Now drink." 

The Vulcan Sub-Commander, veteran of over forty first contacts and top in her class at the Vulcan Science Institute swallowed her pride and pretended, for the first time, to drink tea that wasn't there. Annabelle clapped her hands in glee and started to fall into her fantasy full force, turning to engage her stuffed bear in conversation. T'Pol sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Trip sat back, feeling fat and happy. While all of Chef's meals were great, this one was different. The lamb was perfect, the wine superb (Trip didn't know how Chef managed to get a bottle of Cotes du Rhone onto the ship and he wasn't gonna ask. He only knew that it damn well wasn't replicated.) The ambiance, complete with live music, was relaxing, but most of all it was the fact that he could unwind in public with his lover and husband, for the first time since returning to Enterprise that made this evening special, and it wasn't over yet. 

After Hoshi cleared away the plates, Reed gestured toward the empty space between the table and Mayweather's piano. "The dance floor is now available for use, if you gentlemen are interested?" 

John and Trip exchanged a glance. It's been months since they were able to go dancing. The last time was even before Annabelle was born. Suddenly John wanted to hold his husband in his arms while on the dance floor more than anything. John got to his feet and extended an arm. His partner immediately accepted the unspoken invitation and allowed John to pull him toward the center of the room. 

Mayweather watched with approval as Captain Archer tugged Commander Tucker tightly into his arms. The helmsman had been saving the big song just for this moment. His fingers brushed the keyboard and Travis began to quietly sing that famous, song. "You must remember this. A kiss is just a kiss. A sigh is just a sigh..." 

As he sang Trip and John began to shuffle their feet along to the music. They gazed into each other's eyes, losing track of their surroundings while Mayweather's voice droned on in the background. "The fundamental things apply, as time goes by." 

John brought his fingers up to caress Trip's cheek, before tilting the engineer's head forward and capturing those lips he adored in a gentle kiss. The voice sang on. "And when two lovers woo, they still say I love you, on that you can rely..." 

The kiss deepened and the couple all but stopped dancing as their desire for one another flamed. Their need so intense that they hardly heard Travis finish the refrain. "No matter what the future brings, as time goes by." 

They kept on like this for several more minutes before they realized that the music had stopped. The couple broke apart and looked around the room, only to discover that they were alone. Alone. Together, in a room with a bed in the corner. John smiled and tugged Trip toward the bed. The engineer willingly went along, secure in the knowledge that a competent baby sitter was looking after his little girl and for the first time in months Trip was free to enjoy himself for a change. 

So the engineer didn't resist when John started to undress him and allowed himself to relish the feeling of his lovers hands and teeth and tongue on his naked skin. Totally giving himself over to the sensations that he had been craving for so long.

* * *

The next morning a refreshed and invigorated Trip Tucker bounded into the mess hall, intent on finding only one thing. After a few seconds of scanning the crowd, Tucker zeroed in on his target who was standing right next to T'Pol. "Hey, Pumpkin!" 

"Poppa!" Annabelle screeched when she saw her father and rushed into his arms. "I missed you." 

"I missed you too, little one." Trip assured her, tossing her in the air a couple of times before returning her hug and giving her a big kiss. God, how he loved this little girl. 

While Annabelle was content to remain in Trip's arms, she was still missing something. "Where's Daddy?" 

"Right here." John had been delayed in joining his family, catching up with ship's business, but all that was done now. He leaned over and gave his daughter a kiss, brushing his hand against Trip in a welcoming caress of his own in the process, before turning his full attention onto his little girl. "Did you have a fun time last night, Buttercup?" 

The mound of strawberry hair nodded vigorously. "Miss T'Pol and I had a grand time." 

"T'Pol?" Trip gave the Vulcan the once over, but all he got was a stoic stare in return. 

Annabelle, oblivious to her parents surprise, gave them a blow by blow description of the night before. "You see, we had a tea party and I was the empress and T'Pol was the princess." 

"Really." John didn't even try to hide his amusement as he glanced at his first officer. "A princess?" 

"I'll have you know that I was an excellent princess." T'Pol answered with all the solemnly and sincerity that she could muster. 

Trip giggled, an Annabelle type giggle. "I'm sure you were." 

By this time Annabelle had lost interest in the Vulcan and was looking at Trip with an appraising eye. "Are you feeling better, Poppa?" 

"I feel great." Trip assured her by hugging her tightly again, and he did. Last night had proved to him that he didn't really have to be superman anymore. The crew had shown him that they were pleased to look after his family and didn't consider it to be a chore. In fact Phlox had predicted that with Annabelle's apparent enhanced intelligence, she should begin to attend school soon and several of the crew volunteered their time and abilities to tutor the child. So many offered to help that Trip was able to switch back to the day shift, so he could be with his family at night, which is what he really wanted all along. As he handed their daughter over to John so his husband could get his morning hug, Trip realized that Casablanca really did get it right. The fundamental things really did apply, for as long as time goes by.


End file.
